Battle
by PinkBlossomTAG
Summary: Blaireau is a Canadian soldier, forced into war due to the huge loss of soldiers in the field. Iompróidh was raised by the Thai army after her parents were killed. When a surprise attack on the Canadian front line goes wrong, Iompróidh is captured and forced to become one of her enemies, but Blaireau had always seemed off...
1. Prologue- Thailand

"Alright, men, Iompróidh here has shown us she's no Barbie doll and could probably kick all your arses in about thirty seconds so let's show her what we can do!"

The Royal Thai Army roared and raised their shotguns and rifles over their heads as the Chom Phon blew the whistle for the go-ahead to fight.

Iompróidh loaded her Assult rifle- a traditional Thai gun- and checked her sword strapped her her back. The rifle was required- a sword was only for the Front Line attacks if their gun was ever lost in a struggle.

She hurled herself over the trench-line and slipped under the Canadian gunfire, leaping over the dead bodies of her comrades who caught the path of both sides' bullets.

She picked up speed, holding her gun up to fire at any Canadian in her path, firing at the all-too-familiar Union Flag incorporated into the Canadian's own flag.

A shell exploded near her and she dived to her left, grunting as she fell on her right arm, fiddling with her rifle, attempting to reload the damn thing.

Her ears picked up at the sound of footsteps and her head jerked up, coming face-to-face with the barrel of a rifle. She snarled and kicked the gun out of the enemy's grip, tackling him to the ground.

The two scrambled about, landing punches and kicks, bites and scrapes until Iompróidh pinned her opponent down and sat on his abdomen, grabbing her rifle and scrabbling of him, shooting just as she got off the body.

Iompróidh- "bear"- _Irish_

Chom Phon- Thai Royal Army Field Marshall- Thai


	2. Prologue- Canada

The air horn blasted through the barracks and shook the soldiers from their sleep, leaping out of the rock-hard bunk beds and pulled the covers up, tucking them into the sides and running around, pulling uniforms on and brushing teeth, standing alert.

The Colonel threw open the door to the last hut at the end of the dirt track to yell at the last soldier who hadn't turned up for roll-call.

He glared around the room, at the perfectly-made bed, the clean wooden boards and the closed closet.  
Just how everything should have been.

The Colonel growled, turned on his heel and stomped out of the hut, slamming the door behind him.  
If he ever found that kid he _swore_...

Blaireau crouched in the long grass, glaring over no-mans' land through binoculars. The Thai army was so much stronger, even with fewer soldiers. Spies were few and cowardly, none wanted to cross the line onto Thai territory, God knew what the Thai did to any spies they caught cause they sure as hell didn't return to the Canadian base with the much-needed information.

The eighteen-year-old adjusted the view on the binoculars, zooming in and jumping back slightly. The Thai had crossed the line! They were attacking!

He leapt to his feet and ran towards the dismissing roll-call, binoculars forgotten on the ground.

The Colonel was alerted of Blaireau's coming presence and barked out an order to have him dragged into his office.

There seemed to be no need for this, as Blaireau ran right through the Colonel's defences and right into the office, huffing and panting.

"Ils s'attaquent! Ils ont traversé la frontière et sont dans la terre de l'homme! Ils seront sur nous à tout moment!"

The Colonel was surprised, he hadn't known where Blaireau had been for the past half-hour, but this seemed to give it away.

"Comment sais-tu cela?" He smirked, leaning back in his chair.

Blaireau glared at him."Ils ont agité une bannière de leur tranchée et ont commencé à faire le Tango!" he snapped. "Sauf si vous voulez mourir, faites les troupes là-bas!"

As much as the Colonel hated to admit it, Blaireau was right. He stood up and barked at the soldiers to get ready to attack.

The soldiers scrambled up the side at the sound of the whistle and ran across no-man's land to face the oncoming Thai. The machine-gunners opened fire and mowed down most of the Thai's Front-Line attack.

A shell was thrown by the guy next to Blaireau, and the explosion caught on the wind, forcing the smoke Westwards towards more oncoming Thai attacks.

A figure caught his eye, a Thai soldier was attempting to reload with an obviously broken right arm. He picked up speed, heading towards the enemy.

The Thai looked up and Blaireau held his gun up. He- _she?_ \- snarled and kicked the rifle out of hand and tackled him to the ground with amazing strength.

She was strong and quick and had better aim than the best Canadian attacker. He, on the other hand, could barely duck and dodge her attacks.

His head hit the ground hard and he lost sight for a few seconds. When his vision returned, he saw the Thai girl pointing her gun at him, attempting to shoot.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the bullet to rip through his flesh and stop his heart. He was going to die anyway, why not to a random stranger he didn't know rather than his own father back in Canada?

He opened one eye and saw the girl looking at her gun as if it wouldn't fire. Seeing an opportunity, Blaireau kicked the gun out of her hands and pinned her to the ground, ignoring the increasing pain in his head.

She hissed and spat at him and Blaireau growled back, black dots clouding his vision.

"Bon travail, Blaireau! Vous en avez un!" he the Colonel yell before his arms gave out and he fell unconscious.

Ils s'attaquent! Ils ont traversé la frontière et sont dans la terre de l'homme! Ils seront sur nous à tout moment!- They're attacking! They've crossed the border and are in no-man's land! They will be on us at anytime!

Comment sais-tu cela?- How do you know this?

Ils ont agité une bannière de leur tranchée et ont commencé à faire le Tango!- They waved a banner from their trench and started to Tango out!

Sauf si vous voulez mourir, faites les troupes là-bas!- Unless you want to die, get the troops out there!

Bon travail, Blaireau! Vous en avez un!- Well done, Blaireau! You got one!


	3. Prisoner Of War- Thailand

Iompróidh growled as she was forced to her feet by the Canadian officers.

"Arrêtez de vous battre, vous saignez, vous êtes notre propriété maintenant! " one of the soliders gripping her arm said.

She spat at him and he harshly slapped her cheek, leaving a bright red pawprint.

"Casey! Ce n'est pas un moyen de traiter une dame! Même si elle est prisonnière de guerre."

Iompróidh swung her leg out and caught her captor in his manly areas. Casey doubled over in pain, letting go of her left arm. The younger swung her dominant arm at the captor on her right, punching him in the face, causing him to let go of her injured arm. She swooped down and scooped up her rifle, shooting Casey and diving in a hole caused by a hand grenade.

The Thai soldier unhooked a hand bomb from her belt and threw it at the Canadian front line, laying on her front and holding her hands over her head to minimise the damage of debris falling on her head.

She heard scrambling behind her and whipped around, holding her rifle up to the person.

"Je ne vais pas vous blesser." the Canadian said. Iompróidh growled and pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple. The Canadain sighed and closed his eyes as if accepting he was going to die.

She raised an eyebrow, lowering the gun and looking at him. Now she could see the scars and bruises on his face and neck. The sleeve on his right arm had gathered up, showing faint cut marks on his wrist. Iompróidh dropped her gun, grabbed his arm and pulled his sleeve up, showing off more cuts up his arm, all across veins and capillaries.

"Keid xarị k̄hụ̂n kạb khuṇ?" She asked, looking at him.

He opened one eye and hissed when she gripped his arm tightly.

She quickly let go of his arm. "K̄hxthos̄ʹ," She said.

He sighed, ears lowered. "Pourquoi tu ne t'es pas tué?"

She looked at him and was about to say something when a paw was clamped over her mouth and she was pulled out of the ditch and thrown to the ground. "Tous les vôtres, Blaireau. Vous la ramenez au campus."Iompróidh snarled at Blaireau. "Khuṇ mạn lew! Thảmị khuṇ t̄hụng dị̂? C̄hạn wị̂cı khuṇ!"

"Je ne sais pas ce que vous dites!" The male cried, exasperated. "Je ne parle pas Thai!"

He quickly grabbed her arms before she could hit anyone and pulled her towards the Canadian base.

 _French_

Arrêtez de vous battre, vous saignez, vous êtes notre propriété maintenant!  
 _Stop struggling, you bitch, you're our property now!_

Casey! Ce n'est pas un moyen de traiter une dame! Même si elle est prisonnière de guerre.  
 _Casey! That is no way to treat a lady! Even if she is a prisoner of war._

Je ne vais pas vous blesser.  
 _I'm not going to hurt you._

Pourquoi tu ne t'es pas tué?  
 _Why didn't you kill me?_

Tous les vôtres, Blaireau. Vous la ramenez au campus.  
 _All yours, Blaireau. You take her back to campus._

Je ne sais pas ce que vous dites!  
 _I don't know what you're saying!_

Je ne parle pas Thai!  
 _I don't speak Thai!_

 _Thai_

Keid xarị k̄hụ̂n kạb khuṇ?  
 _What happened to you?_

K̄hxthos̄ʹ  
 _Sorry_

Khuṇ mạn lew! Thảmị khuṇ t̄hụng dị̂? C̄hạn wị̂cı khuṇ! _  
You bastard! How could you? I trusted you_


	4. Attempts- Canada

"C'est genial," said Gagnon, who was on bunker duty that day. "On y va encore une fois."

"Ouvrir la porte, Gagnon." Blaireau sighed.

"Ouvrir la porte." Gagnon mimicked, unlocking the steel-bolted door.

The room inside was dark and foreboding. The air was choking and arenose, the only light coming from a single window barely above ground. The atmosphere was damp, murky water dripping from the unmanned water pipes. Rats scrambled around the place, carrying all sorts of diseases.

Iompróidh twisted away from the vermins, disgusted.

"Khuṇ chî welā r̀wm kạn k̄hxng khuṇ kạb s̄ìng h̄el̀ā nī̂ mā nān khæ̀ h̄ịn?" She growled at Blaireau.

He looked at her reaction. "Je n'ai pas conçu cet endroit."

He released her arms, turned on his heel and left the bunker.

Gagnon watched Blaireau as the younger walked to his hut.

The hamster smirked and stepped into the bunkhouse.

Blaireau pushed open the door to his hut and stepped in.

It was the smallest hut on campus, only made to sleep two people. It was also the only wooden hut; the others all insulated and made of ugly concrete or brick.  
Inside was a bunkbed and a small bathroom consisting of a toilet, a sink and a shower that only ran cold water.

The male sighed, entered the bathroom and locked the door. He opened the drawer of the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a six-inch knife. He pulled up his sleeves and brought the knife down on his left arm, slitting his arm, allowing the crimson liquid the drip down his wrists, cutting both arms over and over again.

This was normal for him. Every day he would do this, every day he would attempt to escape the pain that was suffocating him from the inside.

He heard banging on the main door.  
Panicking, he plunged the knife into his leg, severing his femoral artery, pleading internally to himself to bleed out, to die before they reached him.

Black spots cornered his vision and his sight became blurry. His breathing quickened, his pulse raced and his head felt heavy.

He swam in and out of consciousness before losing his balance, falling onto the floor in a heap, knocking objects off the counter onto the floor with him.

His head lolled to the side and his eyes closed, finally giving into the darkness.

His breathing slowed and he fell limp.

French

 _C'est genial_ \- Oh great

 _On y va encore une fois_ \- Here we go again

 _Ouvrir la porte_ \- Open the door

 _Je n'ai pas conçu cet endroit_ \- I didn't design this place

Thai

 _Khuṇ chî welā r̀wm kạn k̄hxng khuṇ kạb s̄ìng h̄el̀ā nī̂ mā nān khæ̀ h̄ịn?_ \- How long have you been sharing your bunk with these things?


	5. Humiliation- Thailand

Gagnon shoved Iompróidh out of the bunker, wearing absolutely nothing to emphasise she was unarmed and vulnerable.

Two guards grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her back, holding them there as they forced her towards the Huts.

She counted each one off- 1, 2, 3... all the way to 17.

Hut 17 seemed pathetic next to its neighbours.  
Instead of being a large building made of concrete or brick, Hut 17 was a small, wooden structure, only really big enough to hold two people. On one side, a large window saw through to the main bunk station where the female saw a bunkbed, the bottom one clearly slept in with the slight dip in the mattress.

One of the guards banged on the main door.  
"Ouvrez Blaireau!"

There was no response.

The guard banged again.  
"Blaireau! Ouvre la porte!"

Iompróidh's ears picked up at the sound of a slight thud.  
She struggled against her captors, attempting to get to the door.

"Weaver!" The first guard yelled. "La tenir!"

Weaver held Iompróidh down, forcing her on her knees.

The first guard kicked down the door and immediately Iompróidh could see the crimson seeping out from under another door.

"Quelle gueule...?" the first guard trailed off, kicking open the other door, revealing the body of the young Canadian soldier.

"Appelez l'aile de l'hôpital maintenant!" He yelled at Weaver, who let go of Iompróidh and ran towards a long, white building.

The first guard dragged Iompróidh into the main bunk room and pulled out what seemed to be Blaireau's spare army uniform.  
"Mettez-le." He grunted, glaring at Blaireau's body before leaving the Hut.

She was about to pull on the uniform when there was a knock at the door. Quickly, she grabbed the blanket off the bottom bunk and wrapped it around her before looking around to door frame.

A female panther stood at the door, holding a white sports bra and a pair of white knickers.  
"You might need these." She said, handing them to Iompróidh.

Iompróidh took the garments from the panther and nodded. "K̄hx k̄hxbkhuṇ."

She pulled the garments on and wiggled her way into the uniform, doing the zip up at the front.

The panther looked like she was going to say something when the nurses arrived to carry Blaireau to the med-bay.

The panther sighed. "Another attempt?" She asked Weaver, who had come in with the nurses.

Weaver nodded. "He doesn't get it, does he? He can't die. He literally cannot die."

The beaver looked at Iompróidh and seemed to remember something. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out what looked like a shock collar. He attached the collar to Iompróidh's neck.

"Blaireau was supposed to have the remote, but he obviously isn't mentally fit at the moment."

"I'll have it until Blaireau is stable again." The panther said, taking the remote from Weaver while the beaver sniggered.

"We'll have to wait a millennium until he is stable. He's obviously cuckoo." Weaver snorted and the panther nodded.

Iompróidh glared at the two of them as they laughed at another's misfortune. She remembered Blaireau's limp, and the cuts on his arm.

They were from a knife blade, not a sword or dagger-like one would expect at war. A sword or dagger was made to cut deep into flesh and sever veins and capillaries; a knife blade was made to sink into the flesh of a fruit or the starch store of a vegetable, not a living creature.

She stood quietly, wondering if he actually did...

"Hey, bitch. Did you not hear me? Supper's ready."

The voice brought her back to reality and saw both the beaver and the panther glaring at her.

She snarled at them and followed them out of the Hut.

 _French_

Ouvrez Blaireau!  
Open up Blaireau!

Blaireau! Ouvre la porte!  
Blaireau! Open the door!

La tenir!  
Hold her!

Quelle gueule...?  
What the f**k...?

Appelez l'aile de l'hôpital maintenant!  
Call the hospital wing now!

Mettez-le  
Put it on

 _Thai_

K̄hx k̄hxbkhuṇ  
Thank you


	6. Unneeded- Canada

No-one had been in the hospital wing as much as Blaireau had, and the Nurses had been getting quite sick of it.

"Qu'avait-il été cette fois-ci?" asked the head Nurse, Emma Taylor asked as she stalked into the surgery room, a small team of Nurses behind her.

"Une artère fémorale coupée, madame." Marine Campbell, a Nurse who had been working with Taylor for several years.

"Bien sûr, c'est." Taylor sighed as they made their way towards the surgery room.

She pushed open the doors and shooed out the junior Nurses who had just gotten Blaireau stable.

"Quitte, nous avons ce." She told them and they left.

"Faisons cela, les filles." She said, putting the oxygen mask over Blaireau's mouth and nose.

With the experience of the team, it wasn't long before Blaireau was out of the surgery room and in the hospital wing's version of an ICU unit.

A trainee Nurse had been assigned to watch him, Mary Smith. She was a puma from Columbia in South America and had been scolded more than once about sleeping on the job.

She just found it so boring, not once had she anything interesting to do, just check on patient's heartrates and oxygen levels to make sure they were still alive and re-fill any medicine pouches that had run out.

"Make sure his heart rate doesn't fall past 40 BPM," Taylor said, attaching a reader onto Blaireau's finger.

"What if it does?" Smith asked, writing it down on the clipboard hanging on the end of the bed.

"Call me," replied Taylor, "and don't do anything with my saying so."

Smith sighed as she watched Taylor leave the room and turned back to Blaireau.

Iompróidh tapped her spoon against her bowl of vegetable stew. It wasn't the curry they had in millions at the Thai base, but it would do. Better than dry rye-flour biscuits and out-of-date butter anyway.

She was sitting on a table at the back with only the panther- she did not know her name- sitting near her.

The other Canadian soldiers had avoided her like she was some kind of disease.

Not like she cared, anyway. A few hours ago she had been shooting these very same people.

She lifted her spoon and put in her mouth, instantly dropping the spoon back into the bowl and grabbing her cup.

The panther started at her. "It's not that hot."

Iompróidh shook her head as she gulped her water down. "H̄ạw p̄hạk kād." She sputtered.

The panther looked at her. "I don't know what the heck you just said."

Iompróidh pointed to the turnip in the stew.

The panther raised an eyebrow. "Turnip?" She asked. Suddenly, she started to laugh. "Don't tell me you're allergic!"

"Allergic?" Someone asked. "Well don't just stand there, Martino, take her to the hospital wing!"

"Why don't you if you're so worried about her?" Martino snarled.

A dingo stood up and grabbed Iompróidh's arm and pulled her towards the hospital wing.

FrenchQu'avait-il été cette fois-ci?

What was it this time?

Une artère fémorale coupée, madame.  
A severed femoral artery, ma'am.

Bien sûr, c'est  
Of course it is

Quitte, nous avons ce.  
Go, we have this.

Faisons cela, les filles  
Let's do this, girls

Thai

H̄ạw p̄hạk kād (หัวผักกาด)  
Turnip


	7. Reactions- Thailand

Iompróidh followed the panther and beaver towards the mess hut.  
The hut was a long, brick building covered in a coat of black paint. It had long windows along the sides and two wooden doors leading into two sections of the mess hut.  
One door was painted a dark navy blue and the other, a blood red.  
The panther dragged her towards the blood red door while the beaver pushed open the navy door.  
The red door was pushed open and Iompróidh was met with an ear-blasting decibel of noise emitting from the mouths of twenty excited female animals.  
The noise level plummeted to zero when the other females noticed her. Spoons clattered against the tabletop and water sploshed as the liquid missed the individual's mouth.  
The panther dragged her towards the queue for food at the front of the hut and passed her a bowl and a mug.  
The server glared at her while she deposited some vegetable stew and solid corn flour bread in her dish and splashed some weak tea in the mug she held in her injured hand.  
The scalding liquid burned her hand, causing her to drop the mug onto the tray below, hissing at the server who smirked.  
Iompróidh was about to pick up her tray when she heard sniggers behind her. Growling, she grasped her tray and shadowed the panther as she headed for a table at the very back of the hall.  
The inside of the mess hall was as plain as the outside, with its whitewashed walls and onlooking windows. Wooden tables were laid out with benches, water jugs sat at the head of the table and condiments sat by the wall at the other end with cutlery and napkins.  
The food station was situated at the front of the hall where everyone could see you and judge you.  
It reminded most new recruits of a high school cafeteria.  
The panther sat with her back to the rest of the hall, watching Iompróidh carefully.  
Iompróidh tapped her spoon against her bowl of vegetable stew. It wasn't the curry they had in millions at the Thai base, but it would do. Better than dry rye-flour biscuits and out-of-date butter anyway.  
She was sitting on a table at the back with only the panther- she did not know her name- sitting near her.  
The other Canadian soldiers had avoided her like she was some kind of disease.  
Not like she cared, anyway. A few hours ago she had been shooting these very same people.  
She lifted her spoon and put in her mouth, instantly dropping the spoon back into the bowl and grabbing her cup.  
The panther started at her. "It's not that hot."  
Iompróidh shook her head as she gulped her water down. "H̄ạw p̄hạk kād." She sputtered.  
The panther looked at her. "I don't know what the heck you just said."  
Iompróidh pointed to the turnip in the stew.  
The panther raised an eyebrow. "Turnip?" She asked. Suddenly, she started to laugh. "Don't tell me you're allergic!"  
"Allergic?" Someone asked. "Well don't just stand there, Martino, take her to the hospital wing!"  
"Why don't you if you're so worried about her?" Martino snarled.  
A dingo stood up and grabbed Iompróidh's arm and pulled her towards the hospital wing.  
It happened quicker than she imagined.

First, she was wheezing and her breaths were shallower and more rapid. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears and her vision blurred.

She felt like she was being dragged somewhere, but she had no clue what was happening and began to panic.

There was a grip on her arm and she tried to twist out of the grasp, shrieking for help.

A voice was yelling, the sound ringing in her head and her legs buckled underneath her.  
Her vision clouded over and she grasped at whatever was closest to her to stop her from falling.

Blackness covered the world and she fell to the ground, gasping for the precious oxygen her lungs were demanding.


	8. iNSaNiTY- Canada

Blaireau groaned slightly as he peeled his eyes open.

The first thing he saw was the whitewashed walls of the all-too-familiar hospital wing recovery room.

'Why?' He thought, rubbing his tired eyes, looking at the antidepressants being pumped into his bloodstream.

As his senses came back to him, he could feel the weight of the bandage on his left thigh where his femoral artery was located.

He sighed, leaning back into the pillows. Another attempt flawed.  
Nothing worked, cutting, shooting, suffocating, nothing. Every one had turned on him and left him still alive, with more disappointment and self-hate.

His eyes diverted back to the drip in his arm.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip._

With each drip, more drugs were pumped into his body, a constant reminder the others thought he was mentally unstable.

The male looked away, glaring at the blank wall on his right.

A click caught his attention and he turned to face the door.  
A junior Nurse, a puma, was pushing a transportable bed into the room.

The puma left the bed on the other side of the room and left without saying anything.

Blaireau looked over and groaned silently to himself.

Of course he couldn't be alone to wallow in his sorrow.  
He sighed, turning back to the wall. The blankness stared back at him.

They thought he was insane, that he needed to be looked after, that he was unstable.

It was out of pure desperation for soldiers he hadn't been sent to a mental asylum.

His ears flattened against his head and he closed his eyes.

Maybe if he fell asleep, he wouldn't wake up?

From the window of madness, goodbye

Iompróidh opened her eyes and looked around the room.

It was a medium-sized room, able to hold up to four people in ICU. The walls were a pale grey and there was a large white window on the smallest side of the room, overlooking a lake.  
Monitors and computers beeped and booped respectively and a dark blue visiting chair was stationed by the window and a wooden bedstand sat next to each each bed, a phone resting on top of it.

A red help button resided on the right of the bed and there was a door on her far left, which she assumed led to a bathroom of sorts.  
Shuffling was heard on her right and she looked over.

It was Blaireau, the male she seen earlier, and the one she was meant to share a Hut with.  
He had his back to her, staring at the wall next to him.

His shoulders moved gently, a indication he was sleeping. His ears were flattened against his head, twitching every so often.  
Iompróidh turned over, closing her eyes, attempting to get back to sleep when a sound caught her ear.

"No, please! I-I didn't mean to! It was an accident, I swear!"

She sat up and looked over to Blaireau, who was thrashing about his his bed, whimpering.

Her ears pricked up when he started sobbing, long, harsh sobs that rattled his body.

The door slammed open and two Nurses burst in.

"Cela se produit encore! Obtenez Taylor!" One Nurse, a quagga demanded, grabbing a oxygen mask off the side and attaching it to Blaireau's face, forcing him to at least try and breathe normally.

The second Nurse nodded, running out of the room to find Taylor.

-

Cela se produit encore! Obtenez Taylor!  
It's happening again! Get Taylor!

Quagga- an extinct zebra-like animal with brown stripes


	9. Panic- Thailand

**I will be using IBIB as line breaks hate me**

The door slammed open and two Nurses burst in.

"Cela se produit encore! Obtenez Taylor!" One Nurse, a quagga demanded, grabbing an oxygen mask off the side and attaching it to Blaireau's face, forcing him to breathe normally.

The second Nurse nodded, running out of the room to find Taylor.

Iompróidh watched the quagga as she attempted to calm Blaireau, with no avail, for the male continued to cry and thrash about, the mishandling making his situation worse.

Tears streamed down Blaireau's cheeks, leaving trails of pain in their wake and his eyes were squeezed shut.

Taylor came rushing in, belting out orders at the quagga.

"Attaquez-le! Nous devons prendre toutes les précautions ici!" She yelled.

Iompróidh bit her lip as sympathy hit her like a truck. She didn't know the Canadian very well, for the most he had said to her was one sentence, but there was something about him that seemed... off.

She just couldn't place her finger on _what_.

She winced at the continuous yelling and sobbing coming from the other bed in the room.

Nurse Taylor gently slapped Blaireau in a futile attempt to wake him.  
"Blaireau, il faut se réveiller!" She told him.

Blaireau curled up, covering his face with his paws, causing Taylor to sigh.

"Trouvez des antidépresseurs plus forts rapidement!" she told the quagga, who nodded and ran off.

Iompróidh turned away from the action, focusing on the lake in the distance.

 _Since when was there a lake here?_ She thought.

She shook it off, it didn't matter. It was a nice view no matter what.

She closed her eyes, her breathing falling in time with the beeping of the monitors.

 **IBIBIBIBIBIB** **IBIBIBIBIBIB** **IBIBIBIBIBIB**

 **Attaquez-le! Nous devons prendre toutes les précautions ici!**  
Strap him down! We must take all precautions here!

 **Trouvez des antidépresseurs plus forts rapidement!**  
Find stronger antidepressants quickly!


	10. My Demons- Canada

**I will use IBIB as line breaks hate me**

Blaireau grunted as he was slammed against the wall, his brother laughing at the sickening crack of bones that rang through the basement.

His brother let go of his neck and the younger dropped to the floor.  
The older male smirked and grabbed his brother's chin, forcing Blaireau to look at him.  
"Père avait raison, tu es un faible!" He snorted, pushing Blaireau's head back against the wall.

He pulled his younger brother up and threw him against a glassware cabinet.  
The cabinet rocked on its stumpy legs, before falling on top of Blaireau with a loud crash.

The door was flung open and thunderous footsteps echoed off the walls.  
The cabinet was thrown off him, and he was grabbed by two huge paws.

The six-year-old gulped and looked up at his father's face.

The older male growled. "What have I told you about breaking things? If your brother can stand properly, so can you!"

Blaireau choked on his sobs, unable to speak. He twisted,struggling to get out of his father's grip.

His father threw him to the ground, placing his foot on Blaireau's face, forcing his son down.

"Nuh-uh, you need to be taught a lesson." His father's face was now a twisted smile.

His father pulled him up, holding him so they were face-to-face.

He couldn't speak, he didn't want to, it would only make things worse. The tears were coming fast, running down his cheeks and dripping off onto the floor.

Instantly Blaireau felt a surge of red-hot pain in his abdomen. He gripped his father's shirt as tears flowed freely down his face.  
His screams of pain were muffled by the cotton fabric of his father's shirt.

His father pulled the knife out of his son's stomach and pried the boy off him, shoving him onto the ground covered in blood and tears.

His head hit the ground and he passed out, a pool of crimson liquid deepening around him.

 **IBIBIBIBIBIBIBIBIBIBIBIBIBIBIBIB**

 **Père** **avait** **raison,** **tu** **es un** **faible!**  
Dad was right, you are a weakling!


End file.
